Bingeing Judd Apatow’s ‘Love’ On Netflix Is A Commitment

Coming soon to Netflix streaming on February 19 isLove. Not to be confused with Gaspar Noé’s graphic arthouse film of the same name, Love chronicles the crossing paths of heartbroken nerd, Gus (Comedy Bang! Bang!‘s Paul Rust), and pill-popping wild-child, Mickey (Community‘s Gillian Jacobs), as they attempt to give a mature relationship a whirl. Created by writer-director-talent curator extraordinaire, Judd Apatow, Rust, and Lesley Arfin of Girls, the new Netflix Original comedy series is a blend of You’re the Worst, Master of None, and Apatow’s signature flair. Unfortunately, though, it feels exhausting.

Set in present-day Los Angeles, Love follows the fiercely independent Mickey as she sleeps with, kicks out, and forgives her freeloading boyfriend over the course of months. The archetypal gal who’s got it all together save for her love life, Mickey embodies somewhat of a pot-smoking, hard-partying younger step-sister of Liz Lemon — a sheer force of brains, beauty, and badassery whose only weakness is, rather predictably, men. Gus, on the other hand, is written as the ambitious younger Apatow (think a more boyish version of Paul Rudd circa This is 40): cynical but needy and particularly vulnerable following his breakup with the neurotic Natalie (played by Milana Vayntrub, AKA “Lily” of those AT&T commercials).

At 32 and 31, respectively, Mickey and Gus have been scorned one too many times “waiting around for love,” which, according to Mickey, “had kind of ruined her life.” But a crappy night on the town leads to sleepless angst which leads to our two polar opposite protagonists colliding at a gas station and voilà — the rest is history. Sort of. Natalie reveals something to Gus that weighs heavily on his heart and Mickey begins to wonder whether unabashedly opening up to someone is worth the hurt all while a parade of schtick-y side characters weave in and out of their worlds, featuring cameos ranging from Dave Allen to Bret Gelman.

Episodes, which range in duration from the standard half-hour to over 45 minutes or more, take their painstaking time involving us in Gus’ and Mickey’s lonely lives, featuring a handful here and a handful there of Apatow’s endearing but overdone signature cringe. In Episode Two, for example, Mickey shows Gus how to hotbox a car. The performances, especially Jacobs’, are so strong that Gus’ uncomfortable high feels hysterically raw, as does Mickey’s shock and awe that this “40-year-old 12-year-old” has never truly been high in his life. It’s a poignant moment for the series and for our leads, whose chemistry is undeniably palpable. Things get hairy, however, when things drag on… and on… and on. Gus makes a fool of himself on the hood of Mickey’s car in a fast food chain parking lot before climbing in the back seat to be babysat. It’s a scene that could have been shaved down as to not lose its appeal, but similarly to many Apatow endeavors, continues past the point of necessity until conflict finally arises and we’re met with the creator’s favorite genre: quirky but heartfelt romantic comedy led by an adorkable manchild.

It’s tough to imagine two whole seasons of this wayfaring tale of commitment-phobia (Netflix greenlit two orders right off the bat back in 2014); yet, if anyone can stretch a storyline, it’s Judd Apatow. All first-impression doubts aside, Love lucked out by snagging Jacobs. The Community star turned indie muse transcends the series as Mickey: an unlikely girl-next-door who would have no problem kicking your ass in front of your mother (which, more or less happens to her schlubby ex). A force to be reckoned with, Mickey is a tad reminiscent of You’re the Worst‘s Gretchen (Aya Cash), but instead of wallowing like her TV counterpart, Mickey channels her depression into rage and kitchen table sex, leaving each scene ablaze as she exits. Though it’s very early in the year and it will be interesting to see how Love is categorized come awards season (varying episode duration may be an issue for the Emmys), it’s hard to imagine Gillian Jacobs’ performance being overlooked by voters.

Bottom line? If you enjoy the work of Apatow and Co., chances are, you’ll enjoy Love. If you’re a bit more skeptical of the creator’s inability to branch out of his potty-mouthed, cringe comedy comfort zone, the series may lose your interest after a few episodes. It’s worth noting, however, that Jacobs’ and Rust’s chemistry is exceptionally authentic and, perhaps, the main reason you’ll find yourself bingeing your way through Mickey’s and Gus’ ups and downs.